


Back In Black

by foreverinprinxietyhell



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, Depression, Hospitalization, M/M, Overdosing, Pain Killers, Sleep Deprivation, Suicide Attempt, That Week In March (Phandom), Therapy, antidepressants, daniel and depression, muscle relaxers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverinprinxietyhell/pseuds/foreverinprinxietyhell
Summary: Disclaimer: I know depression cannot be tied up into a neat, little bow, but I wanted to get this out before the end of the month. I've suffered from depression since I was 13 and I'm almost 22, so I'm not trying to make light of this serious topic.If you're in the US and suffer from phone anxiety and you're in a crisis you can text Home to 741741 to talk to a crisis help person. I'm also here, but I am in no way a professional!





	Back In Black

“I just feel like I'm condemned to wear someone else’s hell.”

Fairness was an overratedxx thought that held more weight than it deserved, for there were an overabundance of negative zvc energies invested in ruiningcz mere mortals existenx ce. Depression drilled out a ccccv axxzvxx pockmarked landscape that xx cç would remain no matter the material poured in to smooth the surface; perhaps that was why it was so easy to fall prey to the emo lifestyle, at least you were expected to feel drained of every natural color z me bc resource provided. Dan was no exception to the c stereotype that now followed him in in trademark fashion as he continued to wear all black clothing while trying to tame a mess of wild, wayward curls. 

He came closer to forcing out a fringe every morning than having a handle on being human. Not many options filled him with enthusiastic energy except for the friend he had ended up making through Skype and was now living with in a city further away than where they had first met in person, for Phil seemed to have his life fairly in order despite only being six five years older. Despite being around such an incredibly inspiring person it still seemed like there was no help fixing the mess that had ultimately become his main defining trait, self-depricating humor hiding how hard his desires to die were to dispelle. 

“Dan, d’you need anything while I’m out?” the older one asked in a normally upbeat voice as he ducked into the doorway of the boy’s room, “Maltesers?”

“I guess… Let me grab my wallet.”

“No need, I’ve got it. You’ve had a hard week after all.” 

Touched by the offer he gave a second-long smile in thanks before being left to his own devices, listening to the thudding footsteps fading to make sure he was completely alone since getting caught would only hurt both of them worse than if he got away with what many considered a selfish act.

Stepping out of the dank cave he slipped down a flight of stairs to arrive in front of a hidden in plain sight wine rack, chipped black nails scrabbling at a thick neck as he retreated to a shared bathroom. Mirror door swung aside two orange, see-through bottles were taken down to join the alcohol perched near the tub as he climbed in, unscrewing the cabaret to take a large swig prior to another sip laced with painkillers and muscle relaxers. 

A faint echo collected in the shell of an ear as heavy lids slid reluctantly open in a dimly lit room; not fully aware of his surroundings as a hazy cloud hovered from above a warm, comforting presence pushed past the thick vapor even as hot droplets of rain drenched a clammy, upturned cheek. A figure fell into an unfocused gaze, yet there was an odd form of familiarity from the pale blue, but there was no way that he could be here as a weak heartbeat finally faded.

“Dan, please…” he gently pleaded as sharp sniffles filled the air with every breath, “I'll be a better friend, I promise. Just wake up…”

 _I can't, I'm dead._ was his first thought, but that did not make sense as he slowly began to feel itchy fabric folded around him, the heaviness I of scotch tape holding an IV drip I place where it pierced into a vein. Grumbling groggily at the uncomfortable heaviness in his limbs, Daniel dared to make a move that would signal to the other that he had unfortunately, survived by barely squeezing the hand holding him in place.

A gasp punctuated the atmosphere alerting him that an attempt at contact had been received, a tear-stained face burying into his neck as a thin arm slung over a slouched shoulder, “You're alive, oh thank God!”

“Phil, I-”

“Shh, take it slow,” the older one suggested softly as he released the embrace to bend over and bring back a plastic cup, “Your throat must be drier than a desert after they took the tube out.”

“T-Tube…?” Dan coughed out, struggling to reach out for the beverage and letting the other assist after failing miserably.

“To pump your stomach.”

Grimacing at the blunt edge of such a serious tone he dared not make eye contact even as his chin tilted back. Afraid of an argument ensuing while he could not hold a complete conversation his downcast eyes fixed on the quilt covering plain bedding for extra warmth, the thick fabric of brown, red, and yellow squares with black lines linking the seams that seemed so familiar, “This came from home…”

“The one your grandmother gave you. Wanted you to be comfortable, so I asked PJ to bring it over.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“No, told ‘im that you fainted and hit your head on the way down.”

“Guess I'm goin’ to Bedlam?”

“Not if you decide to get help on your own.”

“Like therapy?”

“We'll talk about it later, 'kay?” Phil asked as a single tear escaped from damp lashes, “Once we get home and settle back in.”

Reluctantly agreeing even when anxiety started to build behind a calm demeanor. Weighed down by a heavy layer of guilt at the whole situation that could have been avoided had he succeeded, yet a pale angel had intervened like always; he was too focused on wallowing around to notice that a doctor had arrived.

“Mr. Howell?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

“Have there been any complications since you awoke?”

“No, just couldn't take a drink by myself.”

“It's lucky your roommate got home when he did, if he'd been a minute too late you wouldn't be here.”

“Sir, will Dan be able to go home today?” Phil questioned, butting I before a self-depricating joke was made and the staff decided to go ahead with sending him away.

“Yes, soon, but not before we discuss some precautions.”

“Like what?”

“Preventing the patient from trying this again. You'll have to lock away the medicine cabinet.”

Either way he was going to be put in lockdown, which was probably for the best at this point even though Daniel wouldn't admit it. Trying not to look disappointed at being treated this way he tried to lock eyes with the other boy while tubes were taken out in order to prepare for discharge, yet Phil kept awkwardly to himself.

“What if… he tries another way?”

“Usually the technique stays the same, so you-”

“Don't finish that sentence how I think you will,” he snapped without hesitation, “I shouldn't have to worry about coming home, but now I'm going to 'cos he tried killing himself once already!”

“You stopped him though.”

“By chance!”

That anger seemed to seep deeply into a usually softer soul, yet Dan did not dare try to extinguish the emotion, as if he even could since he had caused the calamity. Letting the younger Lester linger on that heated answer the doctor kept calm while the final chord was removed allowing the patient to move on his own, wheeling him toward the front desk as Phil followed before taking over as the two went outside to wait on transportation.

Over the next few weeks tension took a toll on a sleep-deprived Phillip as getting up between sunrise and dawn became routine to check on his roommate to make sure the absence from the waking world was temporary. Usually a kettle would be put on right after to leave a cup of tea on a bedside table as a reminder to take an orange tablet, yet this particular morning called for real breakfast as he began gathering ingredients to mix batter. Besides the obvious stack of pancakes that were forming on the stove, a plate filled with chewy bacon and eggs accompanied it as another tin held muffins dotted with blueberries rising in the oven simultaneously.

“What's all this?” a raspy, half-awake voice called out from behind, a black stool sliding out from beneath the bar as he perched close by.

“Figured we could both use a home cooked meal after all the hospital food and takeaways.”

“Sounds like there's a catch though.”

“You have to eat a fruit.” Phil answered, offering a bowl of strawberries dusted with sugar before setting a mug filled with black coffee next to it.

“Kinda cancelling out the health benefits there.’

“Whatever I've gotta do to make sure you'll eat.”

Giving a half-grin I appreciation the room fell silent aside from chewing and the occasional scraping of utensils on blue plates, the warm food welcomed with ease as a fresh fall of snow began to blanket the outside world. Normalcy I would not return in full, but for now a fleeting feeling of what used to be floated between them as empty platters were set to soak.

“D'you bring your pills down with you?”

About that,” Daniel stated as he rubbed nervously at his curly, disheveled hair, “I've been taking them every other day.”

“You didn't call in a refill?!”

“I've been meaning to, I just kept forgetting. Plus, the roads are too icy to risk going to the pharmacy.”

“You realize how dangerous that is, right?”

“Stop acting as if you know how my depression works!”

“Forgive me for not wanting you to relapse,” the older one retorted in a somber tone, biting down on his lower lip upon realizing how that sounded, “I didn't mean it like that, I promised I'd do better and I don't want to fail you. I-”

“Nothing you've done caused what happened, Phil. You're here and that's all I need right now, your support.”

“Tell me what you need then?”

“Can I just… Watch you play Zelda all day in the gaming room?”

“If it'll help, sure.”

Seemingly insignificant to settle down on the sofa snuggled underneath a layer of fluffy pyjama bottoms an added blanket, seeing his favourite person upbeat as usual even as the console came to life, the disc whirling around I the tray. Considering that there were not a cure-alls for such an intimidatingly sinister soul-sucking I at least distractions could help eliminate the temporary terrors instead of turning to s permanent solution once agai, for he had been there once, twice, the third he did not want to choose in the war against himself..

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know depression cannot be tied up into a neat, little bow, but I wanted to get this out before the end of the month. I've suffered from depression since I was 13 and I'm almost 22, so I'm not trying to make light of this serious topic.
> 
> If you're in the US and suffer from phone anxiety and you're in a crisis you can text Home to 741741 to talk to a crisis help person. I'm also here, but I am in no way a professional!


End file.
